


maybe, possibly

by tendereye



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biting, Car Sex, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Ben Solo, Exhibitionism, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Minor Finn/Poe - Freeform, Name-Calling, Rough Sex, Smut, Submissive Rey (Star Wars), minor Rose/Hux, oh i forgot!, theoretically unsafe sex (they don't discuss anything before hand or use a condom sorry)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28924599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendereye/pseuds/tendereye
Summary: “That’s some outfit.”Rey pretends not to know what he means and crosses her legs demurely. The denim shorts are probably a little too short and a little too tight, leftover from her slightly skinnier high school days. He reaches out and gives one of her skate’s wheels a hard tap. She watches it instead of him.  The scuffed plastic spins a few times over before coming to a stop.“It’s cute.”Her breath sticks in her lungs.OR: Rey'scrushfriend, Ben, knows exactly how to give her what no one else can.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 82
Kudos: 498
Collections: Kinkuary Prompt Challenge





	maybe, possibly

**Author's Note:**

> umm hi! this is my first ever reylo fic so I appreciate your kindness! this is also for #reylokinkuary! I hope you like it!

He’s showing off. 

That’s the only way to put it. 

Theoretically, Ben should be too big for it. Too tall, too broad across the shoulders. A childhood spent being _lanky_ and claims that he’d finally grown into it somewhere around his twenty-fourth birthday (but that he’d never quite grown into the ears). 

So, that’s why she knows, he _should_ be bad at this, because he’s spent a lot of time being awkward and gangly, but he’s a natural. 

Ben _flies_ on his roller skates. His hips roll and his legs stretch and his arms balance him and it makes her wonder: _can Ben dance?_ In all the time she’s known him, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him try, beyond a little shoulder shimmy at a house party. 

But maybe Ben can dance. 

Huh. 

She doesn’t need another thing, she doesn’t need to add another skill to the list of reasons she crushes on Ben Solo. She should just sit here and drink her beer and pretend she does not see that he’s good at yet another thing. 

It was bad enough that her crush had been instantaneous. It’d all been very cozy. Rey and Finn, two crazy foster kids who went to high school and then college together. Met Rose who became their third roommate. Finn started dating Poe, and actually happened to know Rose’s older sister, Paige. Small world. And just when Rey was getting accustomed to their little crew, Poe’s best friend _Ben_ started coming around. And she was a goner. 

Worse, everyone kind of liked Ben. He was quiet, but smart. And the first time he’d gotten comfortable enough with them to crack a joke—he’d called Finn _boytoy_ to account for the five-year age difference between him and Poe—the room had gone dead silent. Only to burst into ecstatic applause to which he’d given the teeniest bow with his head. 

Then they’d been stuck with him, which meant _Rey_ had been stuck with him. 

It was okay, most days. Most of the time. Except when she had to watch him showing off, flying around the roller rink like he’d been born in one.

Rey wasn’t sure why the hell Paige Tico had decided she wanted to go roller-skating for her thirtieth birthday, but there was no denying the birthday girl. Everyone had complained—especially Ben—but it _is_ fun, eating the world’s shittiest pizza and corndogs and pretending to be thirteen again. 

Though, Rey can't say that she’s spent much time on the rink. One circuit and she and Rose had taken to one of the benches for gossip instead. Rose is seeing a new guy, Hux, and, small world, he and Ben work for the same firm. (When Ben found out, he’d simply said: “Hmm. Let me know if he gives you trouble, Tico,” and finished his beer.) 

“Is what’s-his-name-coming? Craig?”

“Greg,” Rey replies, taking a deep sip from her red plastic cup. 

“I thought you were bringing him.” Rose leans back and kicks her legs in front of her, so she can roll her heels back and forth against the horrible carpet. Rey mirrors her. She likes the way the floor gives, just a little, under the pressure of her skates. 

“The sex isn’t that good.” 

It’s blunt, but it’s true. Rose wrinkles her nose. “Is it _bad_ or—” 

Rey cuts her off with a shrug. “I don’t know. It’s just...tepid, you know? It’s like he’s afraid of something.” She shrugs again. “I might call him tonight though. I’ll have the apartment to myself and he kinda gets eating pussy right.” 

“Niima, Tico!” Ben seems to materialize out of nowhere. Sweating a little, and looking generally self-satisfied. His eyes sweep up the length of their outstretched forms. 

Unless she’s imagining that. 

His face is remarkably impassive as he jerks a thumb toward the door of the rink. “I think your _date_ is here.” 

They all turn to see Paige, Poe and Finn cornering Hux—easily recognizable from the photos in the group chat—who was gradually turning redder under their attention. 

“Shit,” Rose says, popping up. 

The silence between Rey and Ben stretches for probably a beat too long before he takes Rose’s seat. Rey sits up. She’s not nervous exactly. No more nervous than she always is around him. 

“That’s some outfit.” 

Rey pretends not to know what he means and crosses her legs demurely. The denim shorts are probably a _little_ too short and a _little_ too tight, leftover from her slightly skinnier high school days. But she knows the knee socks are the kicker, stark white with a rainbow stripe running around the edge. 

Instead she glances around them. The rink is crowded with people. Giggling little kids all the way up to much older folks, many of them supervising from the sidelines. It’s loud too, the whole place beaming and blinking with lights: red, yellow and blue strobes up above and winking from arcade machines and toys. It’s all the things she didn’t do as a little girl. 

He reaches out and gives one of her skate’s wheels a hard tap. She watches it instead of him. The scuffed plastic spins a few times over before coming to a stop. 

“It’s cute.” 

Her breath sticks in her lungs. To cover the silence, she wordlessly offers him a sip of her beer and he takes her up on it. 

Another long pause and then: “So. How _do_ you like sex?”

Rey whips her head around to look at him. He’s not looking at her though. “Are you drunk?”

“I overheard you and Rose,” he says quietly. “So tell me. How do you like it, Niima? When it’s not—” a pause, “ _tepid_.” 

Rey clasps her hands in front of her, and prays the lights hide her blush. “Sorry youheard that.” 

He clears his throat. “I’m not.” 

“It’s weird though, right? For us to be having this conversation.” 

“Why?” He sounds so serious, she tilts her head, but he’s still staring out at the crowd. “We’re friends, just like you and Rose.” 

_Not_ just like she and Rose and she tells him as much. It feels a bit like she’s a mouse that a cat is playing with. It’s a little mean, cruel even, for him to ask her that question and it makes her throb between her legs and her mouth turn down in frustration. 

“Rey I—I want to know.” His voice has dropped low, rasping and a little thick. “I want you to tell me.” 

She can’t bring her voice above a whisper.

“I just want to be _free_. I don’t...sometimes it freaks guys out when I ask for it. But I like it rough. I kind of...like to be called names. I want to—” 

She breaks off, trying to catch her breath. Tears press at the back of her eyes because she’s embarrassed and wet and kind of sad now because it feels like she’s asking for the impossible. And she’s telling _Ben_ of all people. 

“Go ahead,” he says softly. “Say it to me. Whatever you’re going to say. I won’t make fun of you.” 

“I want to feel like a slut sometimes, okay?” 

The lights are still going around them and people are laughing and the music is playing but Rey has shoved her eyes closed because everything is going to be _weird_ now. She can hear him shuffling beside her and she opens her eyes to find him standing, rolling the front wheels of his skate against the ground. 

It’s a long time before he says: “You want—I can take care of you. Give that to you.”

 _Yes_. 

But she sighs. “Ben, it might get really weird if we have sex.” 

It’s her turn to strain to hear him. The music has changed and it must be a popular song because more people are hitting the rink. “I didn’t ask you if you wanted to have sex. I’m asking if you want me to take you out to my car and fuck you like the silly little slut you are.” 

Rey’s mouth goes dry. 

Yes. Yes, she does want that.  
  
  


He told her to ditch the skates, slide out the back door and meet him in the overflow lot, out back. It’s dark. Quiet. A couple scattered lights to appease the rink’s insurance company. And when Ben’s hands—she’d know them anywhere, even if he’s never touched her _like this_ —curl around her waist and push her toward his car, she whimpers. 

To call Ben’s vehicle a _car_ is a misnomer he’s committed to. It’s a massive SUV, too big for one man, but he loves it. Plus, he uses it regularly to cart all their friends around so she can’t make too much fun of him. 

Ben’s voice is light against her ear as she stares down the backseat’s leather interior. “It’s just a game, Rey. And the second you really hate the game, just tell me and it’ll change.”

She nods, because she believes him, she does. Ben had never steered her wrong. He’d given her such sound advice the entire time she’d known him. She’d had the benefit of his years and his life experience and she’d always trusted him to lead her in the right direction. 

He could lead her in this too. 

“You like it rough?” Ben asks, his tone wheedling, sweet. She nods again, stock still and gaping into the cavernous interior. “Then let me fuck you up a little.” 

He’s strong, so it doesn’t seem like it takes him much effort at all to push her up and into the backseat and climb in after her. The SUV rocks tumultuously and he slams the door. The overhead light illuminates him, as he leans over her, one knee braced on the cushion and the other on the floor. His dark hair is loose, curling down towards the collar of his tee shirt. His mouth, lush and red and wet, opens and then closes into a hard, severe line. 

It feels like her heart is going to beat right out of her ears, and her breath has synced to match the heavy pant in him. His tongue darts out to drag across his lower lip. They stare at each other as the overhead light grows dimmer, until it blinks out entirely. 

Rey yelps as he falls on her, his teeth dragging an angry, panty-wetting scratch into the sensitive skin at her throat.

“Jesus Christ. Rey,” he rumbles, lapping at her. “Jesus Christ, you smell good.” He sucks the skin at her collarbone hard enough to make her cry out again, and his big hands snake under her shirt. “Take this off.” 

She doesn’t really have a choice—his hands keep coming, pressing, pushing, until she lifts her arms above her head. They bang against the door, but she’s already too far gone to care. Ben doesn't even bother to take off her bralette. He just drops his head to nipple and fucking _bites her_. 

“Ah, shit, Ben!” 

His hand drops over her mouth. “I thought you liked it like this?. Don’t you want it to hurt?” 

Slowly, she nods and then he repeats the biting on her other nipple. She whines this time, head tossed backward, arching up toward him instead of pulling away. 

“This is in my way,” he tells her and she squeals as he rips her bralette apart. It’s like tissue under his hands and then he sucks her nipples to hard points with his lips and his tongue and his teeth and she can’t stop making noises. Especially when he rears back and slaps them until they feel hot. Until she’s certain that they’ve gone pink and red. 

“You like it?” He says it like a question but it’s not and when she says _yes yes I like that_ , he pops the button on her shorts. 

He’s not gentle when he shoves one of those big fucking hands in her panties and slides a finger inside her. 

“Oh, Ben, fuck, _holy_ fuck.” 

“Shut up.” 

She moans into her fist, pussy squeezing down on him. 

He chuckles. “You like it when I tell you what to do. When I tell you to shut up. Then shut up and let your drippy little cunt do the talking.” 

She only grunts as he fucks two fingers into her. Two fingers is plenty. Stretching inside her, pushing her open.

“Oh, oh, _please_.” 

Teeth sink into her collarbone. “I thought I told you to shut the fuck up. But it’s kinda hot, that begging shit.” 

He yanks her up and around like she’s a goddamn ragdoll. Her head is spinning. 

She’s so happy she could burst. 

“Beg me some more.” 

He plants her on her hands and knee. Outside the window, she can see the other cars, those lamps out there. Anyone walking by will see her red, sweaty face. Anyone will _know_. She pulses again, dropping her forehead to the glass. 

She doesn’t know what she’s saying. But she’ll say anything, do anything, give him whatever he wants if he’ll just—

A shudder passes through her as the head of his dick rubs against her pussy. She panics: he’s too big. Yeah, it’s a hot fantasy, but if he’s too big, he’ll hurt her and—she lets out a heavy, ugly _guh_ , as the head slips inside her. 

She grapples for something to hold onto and can only manage to press her palms against the glass. She just braces, tries to slow her breathing and _braces_. But he’s gone still. 

“Slide back on it, Rey.” 

She turns her head to look at him, but his hand shoots out of the darkness, grabbing the back of her head, the back of her neck. He turns her until she faces forward. 

“I didn’t say you could look. Get back on it.” 

She’s not as worried. She’s wet like a running faucet, she’s throbbing around just the head. Even so, her mouth falls open as she pushes back against him. No sound comes out. It's just the only way she can process the sensation. Everything he’s _doing to her_. That he’s forcing her to do to herself.

Ben’s dick is fucking big. This isn’t exactly a surprise. He’s a big man with massive hands and feet. It’s one thing for it to be a purely intellectual concern and another for to be working it inside herself. His dick is impossibly hot and it seems like she’s stretched so tight she can feel every vein, every gentle ridge. She gives another gutteral gasp as he snatches her by the hips with his free hand and yanks her back the last inch or so. 

“Do you even hear how loud you are?” 

Rey shakes her head. She’s sweating from strain and being so turned on she can barely stand herself. Ben starts a slow roll, easing in and out of her with a deceptive gentleness. 

“Anyone could walk by. Know exactly what you’re doing in here. You were that desperate for it? Is that right? Could have been anyone, huh?”

Rey’s head is spinning, and he’s pushing her up against the door, the window. She hisses when her nipples hit the glass. It’s cold and a genuine stream of terror runs through her. Anyone _could_ walk by, and see this part of her, this hidden, private thing. See that she was letting some man rail her in the back of his car, that she was letting some man _use her body_ —

“You want someone to see those little titties, huh, baby?”

Rey moans, and then Ben _starts_. 

He is _splitting her open_ , there’s nowhere to go, pressed like she is against the door. There’s drool on her mouth and on his window and _this is getting fucked_. She hurts all over from his bites, and he grunts behind her like a goddamn animal. He’s going to fuck her until they tip this car over and all she can do is drool and whimper and take it. 

Cowed by his force and her lust, she trembles on the brink of the kind of orgasm that rides the edge of pain, the kind that makes her give one last valiant effort to get away from what he’s giving her. Finally, she can only manage to say his name. She’s already tensing in her thighs and her knees and her stomach, her fingers curled against the glass. 

“Ben, oh my God—I—I—” 

Every word he says to her sounds like it’s torn out of him, like he’s been running for hours, hoarse and heavy and split by his breath. Even so, he doesn’t let up. She’s going to have Ben-shaped bruises in the backs of her legs and on the sides of her neck, where he’s still holding her so tight. 

“You—you,” he says. Mocking her. “You’re about to come all over my cock. Look at you. Did you realize I hadn’t even touched your clit yet? You’re about to come just from this. I’m fucking you open, Rey. I’m fucking you wide open for me.” 

The hand at her neck slides up to the back of her skull, and twists into the hair at her scalp, pulling her back until he can bite her ear. With the other hand he reaches down and makes good on his promise of _yet_. His palm is slick with both of them or sweat or something and when he slides it against her clit she pitches blindly into pleasure. Her eyes screw shut and her body goes tight as a bowstring. And then she comes, wild and wailing and moving so much he shoves against her against the door again, forcing her to go still and suffer through the pleasure. 

“Rey—fuck—Rey.”

His thrusts are haphazard and sloppy and harder even than before, and she knows he’s going to come, _she’s going to have Ben’s cum in her._ When she tightens around him at the thought, he swears again and fucks deeper and harder before he comes hard and hot enough to make her gasp. 

For a long time, neither of them moves. All Rey can do is work to catch her breath, and take sudden stock of all the ways she’s going to hurt when she’s able to move again. Both of Ben’s hands fall to her hips and after a moment she feels something press against the back of her neck. His forehead. His breath fans across her shoulder in brief, hot puffs. 

“Rey?”

She has to swallow a couple of times and pull away from the window, but she manages to say: “Yeah, Ben?”

“Don’t call that guy anymore.” 

Rey laughs and starts to move but his hands tighten again. 

“Sorry. It’s just...you’re full of my cum right now and that’s...kind of hot for me.” 

“You never…?”

“No, never.” 

“I have an IUD. We’re okay.” 

He nods into her neck. That’s all she gets. That little nod.

He doesn’t make her wait there long. Ben withdraws and smacks the light and Rey has to actually look at him. She’s not sure when he took his shirt off, but she kind of wishes they’d done missionary, or she’d been on top. She’s seen him shirtless before, at the pool and sometimes when he, Finn and Poe play basketball (it really shouldn’t be fair, but Poe is fast and Finn is overall better, so Ben’s height is not the automatic advantage one might imagine). But this is something different. Even in this godawful lighting he’s beautiful. 

Blunt fingertips trail over her cheek and down her neck and across her chest. “You’re...kind of bruised up, Niima.” 

She laughs again and realizes she also sort of wants to cry. She’s _Niima_ again. “I figured. I’m not going to be able to walk straight, let alone skate.” 

How long have they even been out here? Is the party over? Will people notice they’ve gone missing? Will Ben notice that she can’t really look him in the eye because if she does, she really will cry? 

Because she’s gotten what she wanted without getting what she wanted. 

He gives her a long blink and beyond the briefest turn of his lips, he doesn’t seem to acknowledge the fact that he has a monster cock. 

“Let me—” he breaks off and leans forward to pop the glovebox. “Ah, fuck, there’s no napkins or—shit!” 

Rey ignores him and his overwrought frustration and uses her tattered bralette to clean up between her legs. He’ll probably drip into her panties the rest of the night anyway. He turns and catches her at the tail end of clean up, and winces as she starts wriggling into her shorts. 

“Sorry. I’ll get you a new one. I just thought—” 

“No, it’s okay. I liked it. A...lot. I liked it so much, I’m definitely willing to sacrifice a bralette from Target.” 

Ben shakes his head. “Even so—” 

“Hey Ben?” Rey interrupts him, dragging her shirt over head. Even the drag of the cotton hurts a little. “I don’t...we don’t have to talk about this, right? I don’t want to make things weird. I just—I mean—this was really good.” She's starting to talk faster, wringing her hands in her lap. “And I’m glad we did it. But I’ve always had a teeny tiny crush on you and I don’t know if it would be good if we kept doing this or if we like...make it more than it is. You know?”

He doesn’t say anything at all. He finds his shirt, slides into and surprises her by tucking her bralette into his back pocket. He rakes a hand through his hair and sighs. He looks kind of stupid, sitting in the backseat beside her, and she feels stupid just sitting there in silence. 

“Rey, you have the shittiest taste in men.” That's not what she expected. She opens her mouth but he holds up a hand. “You’re constantly picking these losers who can’t give you anything. Who can’t give you shit. Who can’t do anything for you. And it’s fucking _torture_ to watch.” 

She’s just blinking at him. This really is the worst light. 

“It’s torture because _I_ can. Even though I shouldn’t. Because I’m too old for you. And I don’t want to mess up the friendship or our group because I know...I know we’re all the family you have.” 

And she’s definitely only crying because she’s already achy from the sex. She wants to tell him he’s not too old, that he’s only thirty-one and she’s twenty-five now and they’ve known each other for _years_ and she’s not the same kid he met forever ago. And that it doesn’t matter, that their friends will love them anyway. But she needs to be _sure_. 

“Ben, what are you saying?”

He sighs, does the thing with his hair again. “That you’re not the only one with a crush, okay? I just...fucked it all up. I should have asked you to dinner, not rawed you in the back of my car.” 

Rey sniggers. “So, we both have crushes.” 

His lips quirk again, moving toward a fuller smile. “Yeah, I guess.” 

She gets up on her knees, edges closer to him. Automatically, his arms open to her and pull her closer. He swipes at her cheeks with his thumbs. 

“I don’t care that you’re an old man.” Ben snorts. “And if you want to ask me out, I can see myself maybe, possibly considering saying yes.” 

“Maybe, possibly considering.” He’s smile is much fuller, just a dash of teeth beyond those lips of his. 

“My only real problem—” 

“—uh huh—

“—is that after all that...you still haven’t kissed me.” 

Ben sighs, cupping her ass in his hands, pulling her astride his lap. “Hey Rey? You wanna make out a little? And tomorrow, maybe...dinner?”

Her lips brush his when she speaks. “Maybe. Possibly.” 

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers. 

It’s the last thing either of them says for a while.   
  
  
  


Rey is still trying to smooth her clothes and her hair as they stumble back into the roller rink. Her nipples are all hard and there’s no denying the hickeys on her neck. In varying degrees now, after her makeout session with Ben, who is also looking a little worse for wear. His hair in massive, tangled waves, his mouth swollen. 

She has managed to get in a nip or two of her own. 

“On the one hand,” Ben says, “I don’t exactly need the shit I’m going to get from Poe for this. But on the other, it is extremely fucking hot to see you all messy like this. I did that to you. Fuck Greg.” 

Rey snorts, rubbing her nose as they slink back towards their group’s table. “Yeah, but, Greg was going to eat me out.” 

“I’m going to eat you out.”

“Why do you have to make it sound threatening?” 

Ben waggles his eyebrows and jams his hands in his pockets as they approach the table. 

“Well, where have _you two_ been?”

Rose is squealing. They’ve already cut the cake and the cups scattered around tell Rey that she and Ben have been gone longer than she’d originally thought. She’s going to have to get Paige another gift.

“Hypocrite,” Poe cries. There’s no heat in it and he’s laughing, the barest hint of color high in his cheeks. 

“ _Finally,_ ” Finn hollers, pointing at her with a little wink. 

Rey glances up at Ben’s soft smile. She has to agree. 

**Author's Note:**

> please come say hi on twitter! find me [@itstendereye](https://twitter.com/itstendereye)! (i'm new and I know no one and nothing. help an old lady out.) 
> 
> also, working on some other things, so maybe subscribe if you'd like to read a weird, kinky, mindfucky darkish fic, and/or a valentine's day thing wherein Rey has big "this may as well happen" energy and meets Ben "chaos demon" Solo. And they fall in love.


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